


Nightmares

by mrsmaximoff (lunardiaz)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dreams & Nightmares, F/M, Fluff, Light Hurt/Comfort, Nightmare, i love aaron taylor johnson omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:03:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4574451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunardiaz/pseuds/mrsmaximoff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pietro helps cuddle you back to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

You laid on your back on the bed, your eyes glued to the ceiling above you. Your lips were quivering, and hot tears spilled down your cheeks. Your fingers gripped the bedsheets beneath you.

All you could think about was how much you wanted to be somewhere else.

Just half an hour ago, you had been fast asleep. At first, it was peaceful, but then the visions came back. Being ripped away from your parents at the scene of a battle, watching them die in front of you. Was it half an hour ago? Maybe an hour. Maybe two. You weren't sure.

You were in a state of shock when Clint took you with him. You couldn't talk, or speak, or even cry- you were in a daze that lasted four hours.

Even now, four months later, you still hadn't fully recovered from the accident. Daytime was okay, but every night was a struggle to fall asleep, even with sleeping pills. All the images came back into your head in vivid detail, the screams, and your chest felt like you couldn't breathe.

Your heart rate started to increase as the flashbacks wouldn't stop. They were filling your brain. You could almost smell the smoke, taste the blood, hear the cries and shouts of those around you.

No, no, no, this couldn't be happening.

"Get out of my head!" You screamed hoarsely at the top of your lungs, your eyes flying shut and another sob racking your body.

Pietro lay in his room across the hall, the only other person awake in the house. He was trying to fall asleep as well, but with that scream he just heard, all sleepiness had worn off, and he was sitting straight up in the bed.

You were still crying harshly as the doorknob to your bedroom turned quietly. Pietro had ran across the hall, which had taken little to no time, but he didn't want to scare you any more. He had no idea what was going on inside your room.

Your eyes darted to the door, and it opened slowly. Pietro stood in the doorway, his figure illuminated by the moonlight from your window. His white-grey hair was messy, but his blue eyes were sparkling.

Embarrassment and regret suddenly hit you, and hard. Had you actually screamed that? Oh, God, you'd woken people up. And of course it was the cute boy. Why couldn't it be Clint or something?

Sniffling, you turned your body so that you were facing the wall. Your knees curled up to your chest as you tried to quiet yourself.

"Are you okay?" Pietro asked, and there was the sound of your door closing, followed by soft footsteps.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds. Feeling the bed shift with the weight of another person, you sighed. "Go away," you mumbled softly, closing your eyes again.

"I.. I heard you scream from my bedroom, and I vasn't sure vhat vas vrong." His Sokovian accent was thick as he spoke. Usually he did his best to cover it up, but you figured it didn't have time for that in the middle of the night.

You felt his hand start stroking your hair. "So, vhat happened?" he asked soothingly.

Swallowing hard, you decided to be honest with him. You turned again, so you were looking up at him. "I had dreams.. Or.. Or.. Or flashbacks.. Of.. Of when I.. When I first came.. Here." You didn't want to say exactly it, for it might be a trigger for another breakdown.

Pietro furrowed his eyebrows together, his hand stopping and moving to your shoulder. "Vhat do you mean? Vhy vould you be upset about that?"

You realized that Pietro had not been there to witness what had happened, and that no one had ever really told him. He had probably just assumed you were a descendant in training there. "My.. My parents both died in that battle, when I came home with you all. They.. They worked for S.H.I.E.L.D., and I guess Clint felt the need to take me in when they died."

His blue eyes fell, and he bit his lower lip. "I'm so sorry, (y/n). I didn't know about that."

You shook your head. "I'm not looking for any compassion or pity, Pietro." You paused and let your chin rest on his hand. "Just for closure."

Pietro's hand rubbed your shoulder for a few more seconds, before abruptly pulling away. Your eyes darted up to him, opening. "Are you leaving?" you blurted out without realizing you had said it.

Your cheeks reddened and Pietro just gently smiled down at you. You felt butterflies in your stomach as he began to speak again.

"No, milacyk, I'm not," he mumbled. Pietro shifted and laid down next to you on the mattress. His arm crept around your waist and pulled you against him.

You rested your head on his shoulder as he rubbed your back. "I'm sorry.. I'm sorry if I woke you up, Pietro," you said in a soft voice. "You're probably tired."

"Vell, yes, I'm tired, but you didn't vake me up. I couldn't sleep." He laughed weakly as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest.

You looked up at Pietro. He looked tranquil in the moonlight, his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling steadily. "Thank you for coming in here," you murmured.

He opened his blue eyes and searched your face. Pietro's lips cracked into a small smile. "You're velcome," he said sleepily.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to, though," you reassured quickly, in an almost sheepish manner. As much as you enjoyed his company and _wanted_ him to stay, you didn't want to make him feel like he had to.

Pietro closed his eyes again, his hands still rubbing your back. "I vant to stay," he said firmly. His lips pressed against your forehead. "Now go to sleep."

You blushed again and sniffled for the last time, even though the tears had since ceased. "Goodnight, Pietro," you whispered. 

"Goodnight, macaitko."

**Author's Note:**

> Miláčik is Slovak for darling or sweetheart, and mačiatko is for kitten (at least according to google translate.) I just switched a few letters around.


End file.
